Tuesday

A Love Letter From The School Bus Driver

Dear Neighbor:
I call you neighbor, in the friendliest possible way, because you are driving so close to the bus. I can see you, but just barely. I know you are there, but I’m not sure of your intention.


Please don’t pass the bus on the right, if you can avoid it. If you are in my blind spot, which is roughly the size of Rhode Island, you may find yourself flicked off the roadway like a paper football in study hall. I really don’t want to hit you. It would ruin everyone’s day.

Please don’t cut me off in traffic. This vehicle is not nimble. If you don’t leave me enough room to avoid you, you may find us conjoined.

Please stop at the painted stop line when you come to an intersection. If your rear wheels are in the crosswalk, I may have to get VERY close to your vehicle as I turn onto your street.  

Please don’t tailgate the bus. You’ve seen the signs on the big rigs: “If you can’t see my mirrors, I can’t see you.” This is also true of the school bus.  If I can’t see you to wave you around, you may have to stop at every other block with me. And if you are too close to the back of the bus and I have to stop short, those big tow hooks under my bumper are going to open up your hood like a can of tuna.

Please don’t drive through my stop arm. If my red lights are flashing and the stop sign is out, a child may suddenly cross the street in front of the bus. What if you hit him? Would that work with your schedule?

Please be just a little patient, neighbor. Your convenience is not my priority. Getting these kids to school safely and on time is more important to me than anything you have planned for today.